


Bumbleby Ghostwritings

by ClingyGayGhost



Category: RWBY
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff and Angst, One Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 13:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17850437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClingyGayGhost/pseuds/ClingyGayGhost
Summary: A collection of bumbleby shorts, one-shots, drabbles and ficlets.





	Bumbleby Ghostwritings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short exploration of Blake and Yang's life together after the war is over.  
> Content warning for description of a panic attack.

_Island of Menagerie, the Belladonna manor._  
_Around five years after the Fall of Beacon._

 

Blake overlooks the peaceful, still palm trees below the wooden balcony. The stale air of a windless night, warm and carrying with it the smell and promise of rain envelops her. A cup of tea, forgotten and cold, rests between her trembling fingers. She is crying. Not the loud and cathartic cry of release but rather a strangled, borderline anaemic sob. Yet she does not remember how or why it started.

Her grip on the situation is loosening faster and she flinches involuntarily, forcing her eyes open as her mind fills with images she did not will. Scarlet and White. Pain. She looks around frantically, desperate to find something to focus all her attention on.

Bright yellow flames, extinguished.

Blake gasps with a sharp intake of breath, feels her heart stop painfully. She is going to die. The cup drops from her limp hands and breaks, the sound distant to her ears. She is dying. Careful not to lose balance, sits down and leans on the wall, finding it difficult to breathe as the pressure on her chest intensifies.

Vaguely she registers the sound of the sliding doors opening and her name echoing softly, a question in the air. Clings to it as a lifeline, the familiar voice materialises as sunshine behind her eyelids and compels them to open. Looking up she sees sunshine again, Yang already moving gently towards her with open arms and sympathetic concern stamped on her face.

She instantly feels the comforting heat as the two go through the usual motions. Yang sits by her side and carefully pulls Blake into an embrace, offering her chest as safe harbour. “I’m here baby.” She hears and feels the words, and they resonate as if they had touched her soul, the term of endearment that never fails to give her butterflies, and she resolves to focus on that emotional cocktail with all her might, willing herself to distance the mind from any other thoughts.

She feels her heart finally start to calm down, the seconds pass in a sluggish rhythm as Yang soothes her, holding her with just enough strength in her arms. It feels like a well-rehearsed scene, no questions asked but simply the understanding that could only come from experience. They stay like this for a while, and she doesn’t know how long it has been as time seems to dilate.

“Hey…” Yang starts, in the impossibly soft voice she seemed to save specifically for these moments, anchoring her back to reality “you know what I was thinking?”, and Blake musters the energy to release a questioning hum in response. “When we get back home to Patch, we should build a garden.”

Blake scrunches her face slightly, confused. “But…” and she hates how cracked and weak her voice comes out, “we already have one.”

She hears Yang release a breathy chuckle near her ears before responding, “Yeah I know but I mean a proper garden, with a lot of plants, and a tree, and a swing...” Blake feels Yang’s thumb fidgeting ever so slightly on her shoulder before she continues, her voice a bit more quiet now. “You know, a nice little garden we can escape to from time to time. It could be like… our place.” And she stops, allowing the proposition to hang in the air between them.

Blake is caught off-guard, now distracted from the desperation of the moments prior she is overcome by the simplicity with which Yang steals her heart, like she’s falling in love once again. She pulls away delicately to sit up straight, gazing into those eyes so filled with devotion and wondering for the millionth time how she got to be so lucky. “I’d love to build a garden with you.” Is all she manages to say. Holding back a prickly tear, Blake smiles sweetly when the response she gets is the brightest grin.

They sit there for what feels like an eternity and a fleeting moment, before one of them speaks or moves again. “Feeling better?” Yang asks her, and she nods in response, still wobbly from the mix of emotions. “Do you want to talk about it?” she continues carefully, a hint of concern returning to her expression.

Blake sighs quietly and averts her gaze off to the side. “I think it’s this house. Too many memories. It made me think of… That day.” She feels Yang’s hand ghost on her cheek, comforting, and it brings her eyes back up to connect them. Pulling a tentative smile to reassure her she concludes “But that’s over. It’s been over for years. And we have tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Is all she hears in response, that dazzling grin once again lighting up as Yang moves to get up, pulling Blake along with her. “Come on, we should go let your parents know when we’re leaving.” She says, before giving her a quick peck on the lips, an aura of giddiness already emanating from all around them.


End file.
